The Saviours
by IzzyMorgensternXX
Summary: An alternative to 4x08 where Murphy and Emori get to address their emotions with regards to the whole nightblood solution fiasco.


Clarke felt shell shocked as she left the rocket room. The doors closed soundlessly behind her but Murphy's scream carried through the walls and into the main laboratory. The sound pierced her, setting every nerve in her body on fire.

Her eyes settled on the radiation chamber in front of her. Were they really about to do this? Were they really about to put Emori into that chamber, knowing full well she might not make it?

Clarke took in a shaky breath. 'I love her', Murphy had yelled that. It reminded Clarke of her time in the city of light. It reminded Clarke of standing outside of that door, telling Lexa she loved her, before the commander had raced away to fight off their enemies. Yes, it had been nothing more than an illusion, but Clarke hadn't cared- and in truth, she felt she never would. Any version of Lexa was better than no Lexa at all.

But… watching Lexa leave like that, knowing Clarke was about to destroy the only world where she'd ever get to see her soulmate... it made Clarke appreciate Murphy's position even more. He had just watched the girl he loved get carried away, and he might never see her again.

Clarke felt the strength suddenly go out of her limbs as the inevitable question popped into her head. What would she do if her friends were about to put Lexa into that chamber?

Clarke sighed, yes, she'd probably want to kill them too… hell, she'd probably even try to kill them. Murphy was showing far more restraint than she even would.

Clarke held on tightly to one of the benches, waiting for the strength to return to her limbs. She was aware of Jackson, Raven, Roan, Miller and her mother looking at her expectantly and she looked at each of them in turn with as reassuring a gaze as she could muster. Which was unlikely to be reassuring at all.

Lexa, Clarke thought, they'd never put Lexa in there. Lexa was Heda. No, it wouldn't be allowed. Trikru would kill them for even trying.

Not that Lexa wouldn't have sacrificed herself for her people.

Clarke made her way slowly towards the table where Emori lay unconscious. They had removed her coat and headscarf and Clarke was surprised to see just how small the girl was. Clarke knew it shouldn't have surprised her. Emori was an outsider, freikdreina, she'd been used to living off scraps for most of her life.

The difference between Emori's and Lexa's lives struck Clarke hard. Whilst Lexa and Clarke hadn't been on the best terms at first when she'd arrived in Polis that hadn't stopped Lexa from treating Clarke like a princess. Clarke had enjoyed only the finest food, had her own servants and clothes specifically designed for her by Polis's finest seamstresses. According to Lexa this special treatment was normal for natblidas.

Emori…

Clarke placed a hand on one of Emori's thin arms. She wondered what Lexa would have thought of Emori. Certainly, Roan still had his prejudices, but no doubt a lot of them had come from his mother.

Jackson joined her as her mother prepared the bone marrow sample. Carefully he folded one of the sleeves of Emori's top back to show her arm. Clarke gave out a shocked gasp as she took in the scars. Yes, Emori had lied about the scavenger being Bayliss, but there was always something about Emori's story that had seemed too real to be a lie.

Yes, Clarke realised, there had been a Bayliss. Emori had been tortured, beaten…

And the scavenger, he had tried to kill her too. Would he have been any different to Bayliss, if he'd had his way?

Clarke tried to imagine a world where she was at risk of being killed by everyone she met. No, she just couldn't imagine that, she couldn't imagine being completely alone like that.

Emori was right, Clarke couldn't even begin to imagine her pain.

And as for Skaikru, Clarke thought, with a sickening feeling beginning to creep across her stomach. They'd had a chance to be different. They could have been trustworthy.

Instead they were taking a girl who had already been tortured and were planning to torture her even more.

Bile rose at the back on Clarke's throat and she struggled not to heave.

She had to stop this.

Lexa would stop this, Lexa would put herself in the damn chamber before letting any of them even go near it.

They needed to know if the nightblood solution worked, but not like this.

Clarke knew what she needed to do in that moment.

Her mother walked towards the table, pain clear in her eyes, as she held the needle above Emori's arm, her hands shaking.

"I can't do it," Abby said finally and Clarke knew her mother was imagining Emori's mother. Yes, Emori had been abandoned at birth, but surely the girl's mother had loved her a little bit. Or at least wouldn't want to have an active role in her death. No matter who Emori's parents were, Clarke knew her own mother wouldn't want to hurt a child. Certainly not one who had been through as much as Emori had.

"I'll finish it," Clarke said, taking the needle from her mother and taking a deep breath.

Then she injected herself with the nightblood solution.

She could feel it sweeping through her veins, and the black blood showed itself as it spread from the injection site. The site throbbed a little and Clarke knew that was because she'd essentially stabbed herself with the needle, knowing full well that if she spent even a couple of seconds looking for a vein her mother might have the chance to stop her.

And she needed to make sure there was no way at all that Emori was going in that chamber.

Clarke raised her eyes to meet her mother and saw the look of devastation there. There was nothing worse for her than knowing that she'd upset her mother, seeing the look of horror on her mother's face and then turning and seeing that same horror mirrored in the faces of all of her friends.

"We're testing me," Clarke said defiantly after a few moments, before walking towards the rocket room doors.

BREAK_BREAK_BREAK_BREAK

It was too quiet. There was no screaming, no noise at all that he could hear.

And it had been that way for too long.

Murphy brushed the tears off his face as best as he could before looking longingly at the doors as if he could somehow will them to open and will the restraints around his bloodied wrists to somehow disappear.

If there was no noise, was that a good thing or a bad thing?

At least he knew that if there was no screaming then Emori wasn't experiencing any pain. That didn't mean that she wasn't in the chamber. She might well just be heavily sedated.

Either way he needed to be out there, and he needed to think of a strategy.

He tugged again at his restraints, feeling them cut into his skin and draw fresh blood. He didn't care. He knew it was nothing compared to the pain Emori had experienced in her life. Being tortured, beaten, abandoned, learning to never trust anyone because there was a good chance they would kill her.

Skaikru was supposed to be different. Kind even, they were supposed to stay at the mansion until a solution could be found to save everyone. Emori was just the tour guide and the boat driver. Yes, they would help out occasionally with gathering items or helping to organise supplies but other than that they were free.

Murphy knew how much Emori hated the island and the forest. He also knew that the mansion felt like an escape from that. It contained so much luxury- he remembered the first time Emori had stepped foot in the building- her shock at the pool, at the idea of there being so much water in one place, and the fact that people swam in it, and could, that they could 'waste' water for something like that. Then there was the kitchen which had confused and fascinated her, and beds, and showers and flushing toilets- all things she'd never seen before in her life.

But Emori had no fear, none at all. She had been like a child as she explored every part of the mansion, turning lights on and off and staring at them in wonder, asking John questions about everything and anything.

He'd wanted that escapism for her. He wanted them to spend their days curled up on the sofa in front of the flat screen TV watching movies and eating popcorn, and then he would cook elaborate meals at night, music blasting from their stereo.

They could be normal, for once.

But no, even that simple piece of normal had been too much to ask for.

And it was all Skaikru's fault.

He had stopped thinking of them as his people a long time ago, and their recent actions had only cemented that sentiment even more so.

He tugged again at his restraints. Tears forming in his eyes as he muttered an apology under his breath. An apology to his soulmate. An apology for not being there for her when she most needed him, an apology for not doing as she wanted and going along with Clarke's plan, an apology for every single scar on her body, an apology for all of the scars and pain that was going to be put there by Skaikru…

He barely registered the soundless movement of the doors, but he jumped up as soon as he saw Clarke, her face drawn and pale.

"My God," Murphy said, the shock seeping through him too much to take in. He crumbled to his knees, sobs tearing through him, before he yelled, "You killed her! You killed her!"

"No, no," Clarke said quickly, "We didn't. I couldn't let that happen to her. Murphy, she's alive. I… I took the solution instead. I'm so sorry."

Murphy let out a heavy sigh, "Emori… she's alive?"

Clarke nodded as Miller walked into the room, moving to cut the restraints around Murphy's wrists. As soon as he was free, he made his way shakily towards the door, he hadn't realised how much the shock and blood loss would affect him.

"Murphy, I'm so sorry," Clarke repeated.

"Save your apologies for Emori," Murphy said venomously before walking out into the laboratory. He wished he could run but he knew his legs wouldn't take it.

He could see her now. And she…

She was beginning to wake up. Slowly, Murphy could tell that the brain fog from the sedative was affecting her badly as she struggled to pull herself up into a sitting position.

He knew that feeling from the time when he'd nearly died. The time when his father had died saving him.

"Emori," Murphy said as loudly as he could manage whilst keeping his voice steady. The last thing he wanted was to panic her.

"John?" he heard her reply in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper.

He was about the reply when Emori jumped up suddenly. And he saw her look of horror as the reality of the situation began to descend on her. She quickly jumped off the bench, landing on her hands and feet before rushing for the doors, looking at him suspiciously.

She was unsteady as she raced away from them, her breathing raspy and tears streaming down her face. She wore a confused and dazed look too, and he knew that she thought there was nightblood running through her veins and that at any moment she'd be placed in that chamber.

And it would be worse. Far worse than any torture she'd already experienced and that was saying something.

He quickly raced after her, just as Emori reached the door and tried pulling at the handle. No, he couldn't let her go outside, outside there would be black rain. She'd be burnt badly.

Not only that, but Emori wouldn't be able to get herself back to safety. Her breathing was raspy and fast, her face pale, and she could barely stand. He'd heard of this happening to a few of the patients, but this was the first time he'd seen it happen for himself.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her away from the door as she yelled and thrashed in his arms.

"NO! NO!" she yelled as tears streamed down her face, "NO! I… JOHN NO!"

"I'm right here, Emori," he told her as he kneeled, allowing her to be cradled in his arms, "You're safe now."

"No, no," Emori sobbed, as she tried to fight against him, but her movements were slower now, she was exhausted, "Not you too, they killed you too, John?"

Murphy frowned before realising in horror that Emori thought she was dead, and that he was dead, and that she had wound up in some sort of hell where she'd be tortured forever. He tried to hold back his tears, unsuccessfully, as he tried to reassure her in usual Murphy way.

"No, I'm alive," Murphy began, "And so are you. After all, we know full well, if we were dead, well I'd be in hell and you'd be in heaven, so…"

Emori slapped him hard across the face, before letting her hand linger there, Murphy smiling at her in response.

"Don't ever say anything like that again!" Emori yelled, as best as she could, "How dare you even joke about us being apart for eternity?"

Murphy smiled sadly, before brushing a strand of hair away from Emori's face, "I know, I shouldn't have said it but, you're alive, Emori, we're both alive. And we'll be safe now. I had to find some way to make you believe that."

Emori shook her head, giving him a grave look, before whispering so quietly that Murphy had to lean closer to her to hear her words, "We'll never be safe here, John. We can't trust these people. They'll kill us any chance they get now."

Murphy shook his head initially but one look from Emori told him she'd never trust these people again. It was over here.

He'd stock the lighthouse bunker and they'd move there immediately. And they'd stay there until the death wave had passed- and then all of the monsters in Emori's life would be gone and there would just be them.

"Murphy?" a familiar voice asked and he turned to see Raven approaching cautiously.

"She's ok," Murphy said, before adding bitterly, "Well, as ok as she can be."

He felt Emori stiffen in his arms, giving Raven a wary look, as if she were some rabbit about to be attacked by a lion.

Raven moved closer to the young couple, "I never wanted any of this. I didn't want them to test nightblood again, not after- Emori, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Emori nodded solemnly.

"It was Clarke," Raven said, "She took the nightblood."

Murphy felt Emori take in a shocked breath.

"But she," Emori began, "She could die."

Raven sighed deeply, "She couldn't let you suffer."

"But the others, they could, couldn't they?" Emori argued angrily.

Raven shook her head, "Abby bailed. Jackson refused to, and Miller, he couldn't even watch."

"Roan?" Emori asked, "I know what he thinks of me. I know he wishes I was dead."

"No one wishes you dead, Emori," Raven argued.

"I find that hard to believe," Emori muttered sullenly before turning away from Raven. She let out a tired yawn.

"Abby says the sedative is still wearing off," Raven continued, "She says Emori should rest. If we bring her downstairs again, it will be safer- in case she gets confused again."

Murphy nodded, but Emori shook her head fiercely.

"I won't leave your side," Murphy promised her, before kissing her forehead, "You need to rest. With the black rain outside it's going to be a while before we can go anywhere."

Emori let out a tired sigh, "Ok, but after that, we leave."

BREAK_BREAK_BREAK_BREAK

It had been a good two hours since Clarke had injected herself with the nightblood and to say she was nervous was an understatement. She looked over at the chamber at least every few seconds with a feeling of nausea ripping through her. She tried to calm herself, tried to imagine what Lexa would say to keep her sane.

No, Lexa wouldn't stand for this, she'd have destroyed the whole laboratory before waltzing out into the black rain with Clarke, wrapped up in a protective suit, following close behind her.

Lexa, Clarke thought to herself, if this all goes horribly wrong, well, I'll be seeing you soon.

Clarke looked over at Murphy and Emori. The girl was back on the table and Murphy had placed his coat over her sleeping form as a sort of blanket and rolled up a jumper to make a pillow. Emori finally looked peaceful and Clarke watched as Murphy stood next to her, never moving his eyes from her face, both of his hands holding Emori's deformed one. Every now and then he'd kiss her forehead or her cheeks, trace her tattoo or her scars, and tell her in both English and Trigedasleng how much he loved her, how beautiful, brave and wonderful she was.

Clarke felt a lump form in her throat. She knew they intended to leave for the bunker as soon as the rain cleared but she didn't want them to leave like this. She didn't want Emori to feel even more alone, to feel that there were even more people who were out of get her.

Clarke walked towards the young girl, but Murphy didn't even look up as she joined them. Clarke watched as Emori breathed slowly and heavily, a sign that it would still be a good while before the sedative was completely out of her system.

"She's doing well," Clarke said, "She should be awake in about an hour or so."

Murphy nodded, "I guess I should say thank you. For taking her place. I hope it works, I really do."

Clarke smiled sadly, "I couldn't allow her to get hurt. Not after everything that has happened to her. I couldn't send her in there just because we got the wrong guy- when we all know that it doesn't matter what the guy's name was because, well, it may as well be the same guy. I just… I just want Emori to feel safe for once."

Murphy sighed, "I know. But it's too much to ask of her. She knew Clarke, she knew this was going to happen. She tried to warn me but I told her not to worry."

"She knew?" Clarke asked in shock.

Murphy nodded, running a hand over Emori's hair, "Yes, she overheard you and your Mom talking about testing nightblood, and she was certain you were going to sacrifice her."

Clarke clenched her teeth as she tried to hold back tears, "I… I thought she knew we were her friends."

Murphy shook his head, "To Emori, a friend is just someone who hasn't gotten around to stabbing you in the back yet."

Clarke let out a shaky sigh, "I wish there was more I could do to help her."

Murphy sighed, "You stand the best chance out of all of Skaikru. You saved her life, and she knows that. No one has sacrificed themselves for her, ever. She won't overlook that."

Clarke smiled as she looked down at the sleeping girl.

"I hope that nightblood works," Clarke said, "So you two can be together forever."

BREAK_BREAK_BREAK_BREAK

When Emori woke up her head felt light and woozy and she was aware of a hand on her shoulder stopping her from sitting up. She was glad, she felt like she was about to pass out.

Her eyes struggled to adjust to the light and she blinked many times before noticing John.

Her John, the only person she could ever trust. The only person who loved her.

The only person who ever would.

She let out a shiver and John noticed it, and tried to tuck the coat- his coat- around her body. He didn't realise the shiver was one of fear.

She was aware of movement at the foot of the- bench? Oh, no! That didn't mean.

Emori sprang up, but John was quick to place an arm behind her back, and moved her head so that it rested against his shoulder. She felt the dizziness wash over her and her vision go for a few seconds.

"You're safe," he told her, as he stood cradling her awkwardly, "You just need to rest."

Emori nodded exhaustedly. She wanted nothing more than to be back at the mansion, resting on one of those super-comfortable sofas with a fluffy blanket and John's arms wrapped around her.

"Hey," Clarke said gently and Emori's eyes immediately met Wanheda's own blue ones.

"How are you feeling?" Clarke asked.

Emori sighed, "Tired, a bit dizzy. Is that normal?"

Clarke nodded, "Yes, some people experience that. But it will pass soon. Just don't move too quickly."

Emori nodded, "Thank you. You shouldn't have had to take my place."

Clarke sighed, "I bear it so my people don't have to."

"Your people?" Emori asked in shocked confusion, "You consider me to be one of your people?"

Clarke nodded, "Yes. If you want to be."

Emori sighed, staring at the blanket in front of her and considering Clarke's words. One of them, one of Clarke's people. She'd never belonged to a community before, and this one, this one had just wanted to kill her. Or had they?

Raven had said they'd all bailed, Clarke had sacrificed herself, Abby had walked away, and as Emori looked around the room she could see the embarrassed and guilt-ridden expressions on the faces of Miller, Jackson and Raven. Abby struggled to look at her.

No, none of them had really wanted this, and Emori knew. She knew then that even if Clarke hadn't sacrificed herself they wouldn't have really gone ahead with it.

She didn't know why. She was the freikdreina, she was supposed to have died as an infant. Why would they save her? They had been willing to kill John's father for stealing medicine, why wouldn't they kill someone like her too?

Emori sighed, all of this was too confusing.

"I… I would like that," Emori replied cautiously, "But it's going to take time. And we might not have that time."

Clarke nodded, "I know."

Emori felt John rub her back soothingly as she closed her eyes and leaned against his chest.

"Please don't die Clarke," Emori said, a few moments later, "You're one of the few people I've met who is truly good."

Emori was sure she saw tears glisten in Clarke's eyes.

"I'll try to survive," Clarke said, "For all of us."

Emori watched as Clarke made her way to the table where Jackson was waiting- to check if the nightblood solution had worked for her.

"John," Emori began.

"Hey, what is it?" John asked

"If it goes wrong," Emori said, "Then I want you to stop it. Clarke saved my life, I won't let her die for me."

John nodded, "She's Clarke, she'll be ok. Will you?"

Emori nodded, before looking at the people standing before her, "Yes, I think everything could be ok now."


End file.
